Nowhere to Run
by midnightfaith
Summary: Lilah appraoches Lindsey in a drunken state...


Nowhere to run

Nowhere to run

Author- Midnight Faith

Feedback- want it, need it, love it, [missangel186@hotmail.com][1]

Rating- R ish

Pairings- L/Li

Spoilers- none

Summary- Dark Lilah/Lindsey. Semi- fluff, semi angst. 

"She stood you up didn't she?" Lilah stands there, slightly in the shadows, but Lindsey can still see the delight dancing in her slate-grey eyes. 

Lindsey steps towards her,

"Lilah. A pleasure as always." 

She steps from the darkness, a little unsteadily, the amusement sending sparks from her eyes. Lindsey smells an air of ameretto about her, combined with black magicks and maybe the slightest hints of cocaine. Great she's pissed he thinks. Lindsey's lost count of the number of times he's had to take her home because she got drunk at some office party. Still they'd always had *fun* afterwards. Half the time Lindsey believes she only gets drunk at the parties so she can't remember what she does with him in the morning. Still, it's almost an after office party ritual with them now. And Lindsey likes it. No strings. It suits him fine. Lindsey smiles to himself just remembering. On past record, maybe he *will* get laid tonight after all. You can practically count on it… except this isn't an office party. There'd be nowhere to run afterwards. 

"I live three blocks away," Lilah says, trying to sound seductive, but it just comes out slurred. 

"I know where you live Lilah," Lindsey points out. 

"Walk me home?" 

"You want to walk? In LA? At two in the morning?" 

"What's wrong Lindsey?" She leans in close to his ear, and that almond aroma Lindsey smells more and more on Lilah these days intensifies, "Afraid of what I'm going to do to you?" 

He seizes her, not incredibly powerfully by the collar of her jacket. He pulls her close letting his lips find hers, teasingly, just for a second. 

"No," he tells her, "I'm afraid of what I'm going to do to you," He looks into her eyes for a profound moment. She breaks the tautness, the only way Lilah knows how to,

"Down boy," she says with a slight smile. 

He pushes her away from him and reaches into his jacket pocket for his car keys. She laughs, sensuously. 

"Come on sweetheart," he tells her, "Let's get you home." 

"They practically fall through the door, kissing passionately, zealously, eagerly, tongues and lips never leaving each other, not for a second. 

Lindsey likes the way Lilah tastes. Of almond, salt from inexpensive lounge peanuts and glacial cherries from those blue coconut cocktails she insists on drinking. And she likes the way he feels, smooth and spiked, heartless and hot, passionate and proud all at once. He smells of smoke, the finest red wines and the indisputable smell of pleasure. Her skin buzzes at his touch. Lindsey wants to let his skin touch hers endlessly, never abandon her, never to surrender to his conscience or contemplate tomorrow, dangerous serenity, extensive pauses, always got through it before, need her, crave her… 

Suddenly Lilah draws back and says calmly, not slurred at all,

"Lindsey, no." Fuck it, he thinks, guess I'm not gonna get screwed tonight. Lilah's no fun when she's sober. 

She's so sick of being used by him. Thinking she can't remember, exactly what it is, they do whatever they do after every office party. Then afterwards, that sickening instant where he just lies there and doesn't say a word and abruptly the room's whirling in a vodka induced haze mixed in with remorse and wondering exactly what it is she's just done. She mediates why she lets herself get hurt by him time and time again. It's not as if she needs him. Maybe she's stronger than she thinks. Learning to say no. There's nowhere to run in a boardroom meeting, or the toilet cubicle at an office party. But there is now. 

"Maybe you should just go," she says but her words sound empty and senseless even in her own head. She knows why she likes being with Lindsey. The thrill of the chase, that terror of getting caught and it's not like he's not *good. * But she knows if she can't say no she'll get used knows she'll use him time and time again… she knows she has to run now… while there's somewhere to run. 

He's sick of using her. He remembers exactly what they do after every office party. Sometimes he wishes he didn't. Then afterwards, he feels like he's pinned down to her mattress by some inexplicable force, he can't move, he can't breathe. He doesn't say a word, not knowing what to say, feeling so guilty, and just knowing he's using her. And suddenly the room's spinning in a reprehensible; semi after shock related cloud. He knows exactly what he's just done. He doesn't know why he lets himself torment her time and time again. He needs her. Gets intoxicated by her, craves her, like nicotine. Maybe he's weaker than he thinks. Never able to say to himself 'no.' He knows why he likes being with Lilah. Someone to control, to dominate, that's what he's in love with… not her. 

He leaves her without saying another word… 

   [1]: mailto:missangel186@hotmail.com



End file.
